Fighting for the Right by Oliver Optic (100 books to read txt) 📖
- Author: Oliver Optic
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No other batteries were to be seen, and the Bronx proceeded up the bay, followed by the Bellevite. When the latter had proceeded as far as the depth of water rendered it prudent for her to go at that time of tide, the Bronx went ahead some ten miles farther. The boat expedition, consisting of three cutters from the Bellevite and one from the Bronx, moved towards the head of the 300 bay. Christy, in the second cutter of the Bellevite, was at least two miles from any other boat, when a punt containing a negro put out from the shore near him.
"Are you a frien' ob de colored man?" demanded the negro as soon as he came within speaking-distance of the cutter.
"Within reasonable limits, I am the friend of the colored man," replied Christy, amused at the form of the question.
"What you gwine to do up dis bay, massa?" asked the colored man.
"That will depend upon what we find up this bay."
"You don't 'spect you find no steamers up dis bay, does you, massa?"
"Do you know of any steamers up this bay, my man?" asked Christy. "Do you know of any vessels up here loading with cotton?" asked Christy.
"P'raps I do, massa; and den, again, p'raps I don't know anyt'ing about any vessels," replied the negro, very indefinitely.
Christy was provoked at the manner in which the negro replied to his questions. Ordering his 301 boat's crew to give way with all their might, he directed the cockswain to run for the punt of the negro. The cutter struck it on the broadside, and broke it into two pieces. The boatman was fished up, and hauled on board of the boat.
"The boatman was fished up and hauled on board the boat." (Page 301)
Christy Passford did not intend to cut the negro's punt into two pieces, though perhaps there was some mischief in the purpose of the cockswain. The boatman gave him an evasive answer to his question, which provoked the young officer. The punt was a very old affair, reduced almost to punk by the decay of the boards of which it was built, or the bow of the cutter would not have gone through it so readily. The lieutenant had simply desired to get alongside the negro's shaky craft in order to question him, for he was satisfied from the fellow's manner that he knew more than he pretended to know.
The boatman had come off from the shore of his own accord; he had not been solicited to give any information, and his movements had been entirely voluntary on his own part. Yet Christy was sorry that his punt had been stove, valueless as the craft 303 had been; for, as a rule, the colored people were friendly to the Union soldiers, and he was not disposed to do them any injury.
As soon as the officer in charge of the boat saw that the bow was likely to strike the punt, he directed the cockswain to stop and back her, which was done, but too late to save the flimsy box from destruction. The two bowmen drew in the negro without any difficulty; and so expeditiously had he been rescued that he was not wet above the hips. He had been caught up just as the bow of the cutter cut into the punt.
"That was well done, bowmen," said Christy, as the boatman was placed upon his feet in the fore sheets.
The negro was rather small in stature, and black enough to save all doubts in regard to his parentage; but there was an expression of cunning in his face not often noticed in persons of his race. The coast of Florida, south of the entrance to Tampa Bay, as in many other portions, is fringed with keys, or cays as they are called in the West Indies, which are small islands, though many of them are ten miles in length. This fringe of keys extended up Tampa Bay for over twenty miles; 304 and it was from behind one of them that the punt had put out when Christy's boat approached. The negro had been obliged to paddle at least half a mile to come within speaking-distance of the cutter.
"You done broke my boat in two pieces!" exclaimed the boatman, gazing at the two parts of the floating wreck. "Don't t'ink you is a frien' ob de colored man widin no limits at all, or you don't smash his boat like dat."
"That was an accident, my friend," replied Christy. "How much was the punt worth?"
"Dat boat wan't no punk, massa, and it was wuf two dollars in good money," replied the colored man, his eyes brightening, and his expression of cunning becoming more intense, when he realized the possibility of being paid for his loss.
"If you give me the information I desire, I will pay for the boat," added Christy, who proposed to do so out of his own pocket, for his father was a millionaire of several degrees, and the son had very nearly made a fortune out of the prizes, from which he had received an officer's share.
"Tank you, massa; I'm a poor man, and I git my livin' gwine fishin' in dat boat you done stove."
305 "What is your name, my man?"
"Quimp, sar; and dat's de short for Quimple," replied the colored person of this name.
"Where do you live?"
"Ober on de shor dar, in de woods."
"How deep is the water inside of these keys, Quimp?" asked Christy, pointing to the long, narrow islands which lined the south-easterly side of the bay.
"Not much water inside dem keys dar, sar," replied the boatman, looking off in the other direction.
"But there are deep places in there, I am very sure."
"Yes, sar; ten feet in some places," replied Quimp, suddenly becoming more communicative. "When de wind blow from de west or de norf-west, dar's twelve foot inside de long key."
"Do you know of any vessels, any schooners, or steamers, inside the bay, Quimp?" asked Christy, pushing his inquiries a point farther.
"Couldn't told you, massa," replied the boatman, shaking his head.
"Do you mean that you don't know, my man?"
"Dis nigger done got but one head, and it's wuf 306 more to him dan it is to any oder feller, massa; and it don't do for him to tell no stories about vessels and steamers," replied Quimp, shaking his head more vigorously.
"I suppose you have a family, Quimp?"
"No, sar; done got no family. De ole woman done gone to glory more'n ten years ago, and de boys done growed up and gone off. No, sar; dis nigger got no family."
"Then you don't care to stay here, where you have to work hard for little money?" suggested Christy.
"Money! Don't see no money. Nobody but white folks got any money; and dey has next to noffin in dese times."
"I will pay you well for any information that may be of importance to me, and I will take you on board of a man-of-war farther down the bay, if you are afraid of losing your head."
"If dis nigger told some stories he lose his head for sartin," added Quimp, shaking his head, as if to make sure that it safely rested on his shoulders.
"If you tell me the truth, you shall be protected."
"Wot you want to know, massa?" demanded 307 Quimp, as though he was weakening in his resolution.
Christy could not help wondering why the boatman had come out from behind the key, if he was not willing to impart his knowledge to the officer of the boat, for he could not help understanding the object of the gunboats in visiting the bay; and the Bellevite lay not half a mile below the northern end of what Quimp called the long key.
"I want to know if there are any steamers or other vessels in the bay," replied Christy, coming directly to the point. "If there are any, we shall find them; but you can save us the trouble of looking for them."
"How much you gwine to gib me, massa, if I told you?" asked the negro, as he walked between the men on the thwarts to the stern sheets, in order to be nearer to the officer.
"I will give you ten dollars if you will be sure and tell me the truth."
"Dis nigger don't never told no lies, massa," protested Quimp. "If you pay me five dollars for de boat you done stove, and"—
"But you said the boat was worth only two dollars," interposed the officer.
308 "Dat's de gospel truf, massa; but it costs me five dollars to get a new boat, to say noffin about de time. I mought starve to def afore I can get a boat."
The negro's argument was logical, and Christy admitted its force, and expressed his willingness to pay the price demanded.
"Five dollars for de boat, massa, and ten dollars for tellin' de whole truf," added Quimp.
"All right, my man," added the lieutenant.
"Yes, sar; but I want de money now, sar," said Quimp, extending his hand to receive it; and Christy thought he was very sharp for one in his position.
"I will pay you when you have imparted the information," he replied; and, for some reason he could not explain, he was not satisfied with the conduct of the negro.
He was altogether too shrewd for one who appeared to be so stupid. The expression of cunning in his face told against him, and perhaps it was this more than anything else that prejudiced the officer. He took it for granted that he should have to take the boatman off to the Bellevite with him, and that it would be time enough to pay him on board of the ship.
309 "Dat won't do, massa!" protested Quimp earnestly. "What you tink? Suppose dar is a steamer in de bay loaded wid cotton, all ready to quit for somewhar. Do you tink, massa, I can go on bord of her wid you? No, sar! Dis nigger lose his head for sartin if dem uns knows I pilot you to dat steamer. You done got two eyes, massa, and you can see it for shore."
"But I can protect you, Quimp," suggested Christy.
"No, sar! All de sojers in de Yankee camp could not save me, sar. De first man dat sees me will knive me in de heart, or cut my froat from one ear to de oder!" protested Quimp more earnestly than before, though he manifested no terror in his words or manner.
"Very well, Quimp; I will pay you the money as soon as we see the steamer or other vessel, and then assist you to make your escape," replied Christy. "I will go a step farther, and pay you for the boat now; but I will not pay you the ten dollars till you show us a vessel."
While the negro was scratching his head to stimulate his ideas, the officer handed him a gold sovereign and a shilling of English money, provided 310 for his visit to Bermuda and Nassau, which made a little more than five dollars.
"I don't reckon a gemman like you would cheat a poor nigger," said Quimp, while his eyes were still glowing with delight at the sight of the money in his hand.
"Certainly not, my man," replied Christy, laughing at the idea. "Just as soon as I get my eye on the steamer of which you speak, I will pay you the ten dollars in gold and silver."
"I don't know much about dis yere money, massa," said the boatman, still studying the coin.
"The gold piece is an English sovereign, worth about four dollars and eighty-five cents; and the silver coin is a shilling, worth very nearly a quarter of a dollar; so that I have paid you over five dollars."
"Yes, sar, tank you, sar. Cap'n Stopfoot fotched over some ob de money like
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